


Kryptonite

by orphan_account



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Coffee Shops, Dubious Consent, M/M, Multiple Partners, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-22
Updated: 2013-05-01
Packaged: 2017-12-09 05:51:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/770726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Espresso Yourself barista Blaine Anderson has certain rules for his home deliveries. No kissing. No barebacking. No pain. No asking questions. Don’t expect him to still be there in the morning. And the most important, unspoken for a hope of never facing it: don't fall in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Pairing: Kurt/Blaine, Blaine/OMCs
> 
> Rating: NC-17/M
> 
> Story Warnings/Kinks: Prostitution, explicit scenes of Blaine/other men, dubcon

The wind blew through the park, sending branches just beginning to dress themselves with new pale green buds snapping back against the blustery grey sky. Tiny green shoots, trampled by the feet of clumsy children and heavy adults alike, showed their sweet spring promise to the world, struggling out of the heavy dark earth and stretching their arms out to reach the light. A pale yellow primrose, her sweet face open to the sky light with a bright sun behind the veil of pale cloud, disappeared beneath the tramp of a heeled boot as a man took a shortcut across the park at a desperate run, clothes rumpled and hair wild against the wind as he leapt the gate at the edge of the park and dashed across a busy road.

Crashing through the back staff entrance to Espresso Yourself, Blaine tied the crimson apron around his waist and rolled up his sleeves, smoothing the creases in his shirt down into the waistband of his pants just before Isabelle strode into the room and all the baristas fell silent, Sam frantically shushing Ryder, the latest trainee. "Right kids, let's get going," she said, gazing maternally around at each of them individually. "Newbie, you'll be with Sam and Tina, they'll show you the ropes. Blaine, Kitty, you're back here making the brownies until lunch, when you'll trade off with Artie and Unique to man the counter. Let's go, my dears, we have customers to serve. Opening in thirty minutes."

In the haven of pale walls and long, perfectly aligned wooden floorboards, the paintings of beach scenes and forests and cliffs melting into the walls with their cool and pastel palettes, there is smooth jazz piping quietly out through subtle speakers, so quiet it could be drowned out by Jake and Marley pushing the tables into place. But there in the kitchen, Kitty slotted her iPod into the speakers and turns the volume up full to blast the  _Moulin Rouge_  soundtrack through the kitchen as she snapped on a pair of rubber gloves and danced cheerfully over to the fridge to unearth eggs while Blaine assembled the sugar and flour, grinning at the blonde with her ponytail bouncing perkily behind her as she danced around the kitchen, free and happy.

"You'll never guess who came in here last week while you were at that audition, Blaine," Tina chirped, popping her head through the partition with a mischievous gleam in her eye as her and Unique exchanged a knowing smirk. "Kurt Hummel."

"No way," Blaine said immediately, wrinkling his nose in disbelief. "No, huge movie stars like him don't come into little coffeeshops with corny names. Don't lie to me about that, you know how much I love him, it's just mean."

"We're not lying!" Marley piped up as she ran a cloth across a tabletop, shining it for the new day. "He's on location here for about a month filming for that new film he's starring in, about the detective on a trail to clear the name of his grandfather who owned an insane asylum and was accused of using so much electric shock therapy that his patients died. God, he looked good."

Blaine's eyebrows shot up as Ryder snorted and Jake cleared his throat pointedly. A flush curling high in her cheeks, Marley said, "I still love Jake, but that doesn't mean I can't have harmless crushes on actors. He's gay anyway, not like I'd have a chance."

"Doesn't matter to me, he's still on my freebie list," Unique stated matter-of-factly, to murmurs of agreement from all the surrounding women. "Slice me off a piece of that cake and I'll die happy." Grabbing the nearest cloth, Blaine hurled it across the room at her, and the conversation broke apart with her shrieking about greasy cake crumbs in her hair and Kitty screaming equally loudly that her kitchen was place of cleanliness.

Isabelle opened the doors wide at exactly eight o'clock and a thousand people rushing in for their coffees before long days in the office poured in, keeping Artie and Unique busy moving back and forth between the counter and coffee machines, and Kitty and Blaine busy behind the scenes toasting paninis and keeping up with the demand for cookies and muffins and Kitty's speciality banana bread. The rush finally slowed at ten o'clock, and Blaine could relax a little, at least until Artie peered around the edge of the door and said, "Blaine, customer asking for you."

Sashaying out of the kitchen, Blaine let a suggestive smirk creep onto lips and gave the familiar man a look from beneath his eyelashes. "How may I help you today, Ryan?" he asked in a low voice, leaning on the counter, close to the man with his green-brown eyes and dark hair shot through with grey.

"Well, I was hoping for a home delivery tonight, the wife won't be back until tomorrow," Ryan said in a low, secretive voice, giving Blaine a wink laden with meaning. "And I'll definitely make it worth your while." He leaned over the counter to slip a folded wad of five fifty dollar bills into the front pocket of Blaine's apron, knuckles brushing against his groin, making his cock perk in interest.

"Any special requests?" Blaine asked softly, batting his eyelashes up at Ryan.

"Those knee-high boots you wore last time,  _God_  did you look sexy rolling around in my bed wearing nothing but those," Ryan answered, eyes glazing over a little at the memory. "And the crimson silk shirt, the one I can see absolutely everything through. And those jeans, your ass looks incredible."

"Of course," Blaine promised lowly, running a hand through his hair, licking his lips, slow and luxurious, and revelling in how Ryan's eyes drifted to his mouth and stayed there. "I'll be with you around eight. I expect you to be waiting for me, and keep to our agreement as usual."

"No kissing, no barebacking, no pain, no asking questions and don't expect you to still be there in the morning, I know," Ryan said good-naturedly, taking his coffee from Blaine. "Thank you, sir."

"Oh, you are most welcome," Blaine replied easily, giving Ryan a wicked smirk and quirk of his eyebrow before he watched him go and turned back into the kitchen with a new spring in his step and the rustle of cash in his pocket.

Blaine drove the distance to Ryan's apartment that night. If he walked through the night-clad streets looking like he did, in tall black boots and tight black jeans and a crimson shirt made of silk so thin every muscle of his chest and stomach was visible, his nipples peaked against the material, he knew someone would try to proposition him, and he knew he was in no position to start a relationship. Only twenty-two, working in a coffeeshop, living with his dog and Kitty, secretly making home deliveries to earn the money to commute back and forth to auditions, searching desperately for his big break, there simply wasn't time in his schedule for dating on top of everything else.

When he knocked out his usual rhythm, three knocks followed by a three-second pause and then two more knocks, Ryan opened the door to tug Blaine inside by his hips, running his eyes over him with a hungry look on his face before pushing him into the bedroom, down onto the bed, unbuttoning his shirt and separating the halves, vivid crimson against the clean, sweet-smelling white sheets.

"You are unbelievably gorgeous," he growled possessively, raking his nails down Blaine's chest, leaving raised white lines fading into red against olive skin. "I swear, I'll divorce my wife and make you my conquest." Blaine gave a shocked, flattered gasp at the words, knowing it was all a lie. It was what they all said, but no limos seemed to be pulling up to spirit him away from his unravelling life. These men all stayed in the security of their marriages, and he slipped out in the middle of the night to a cold apartment with a bed warmed by Bond snoozing there, the thump of his tail reassuring as Blaine slid into bed exhausted and dissatisfied.

There had been a time when he dreamt of romance, of sex being not just that, but making love, something to look forward to, soft lips warm on his and a familiar body moving against his own, hands tracing the dips and curves of his body and holding him together as he broke apart beneath an expert caress. All those dreams were gone now, swept away like the skeletons of leaves on a bitter autumnal breeze, as Ryan peeled off his shirt and tugged his jeans away without taking off his boots, running his hands over the supple leather with a groan, pushing his erection against the inside of Blaine's thigh as he reached over him to grab a half-empty bottle of lube and a condom from the top drawer of his nightstand.

Only then did Blaine take charge, whispering clichéd overused phrases about how hot he was, how much he turned him on, as he slowly took Ryan's clothes off, running his hands everywhere, letting his eyes fall closed to better imagine someone else beneath him, someone gazing up at him with love in their eyes, someone who would hold him close throughout and whisper tender words in his ear. He reached for the lube and forced his eyes open, keeping them smouldering on Ryan's as he slid a finger into himself with a high-pitched whine for show, letting his breathy  _ah-ah-ah_ s grow shriller and more wrecked as he opened himself up with his own skilled fingers, ripping the condom wrapper open with his teeth and rolling it down onto Ryan's steepled cock, giving him a few pumps with a lube-slick hand before sinking down slowly onto him, hips rolling and mouth falling open around a moan, head thrown back.

"You're so hot," Ryan groaned in a strangled voice as Blaine rolled his hips smoothly down, running his own hands down his chest, pinching a nipple to drag a deep moan from his throat and prompt a particularly hard thrust down onto Ryan's cock, slowly sliding his hand down to wrap around himself, jerking himself off hard and rough. "Next time she's out of town, I'll have you here the whole time. You'll never leave this bed, I'll keep you waiting here for me while I'm working. You look so perfect above me, but I want to see you under me."

Blaine ignored the jolt of fear that stole coldly into his stomach, moaning high and pretty for show, legs burning as he bounced until Ryan tensed and came with a shout, letting Blaine groan softly and spill over his own hand, lifting up and dressing fantastically fast, leaving the apartment and shutting the door firmly behind him.

The days passed. Blaine had another home delivery to make on Friday, to a regular he enjoyed more than Ryan, a single man with gentle hands and shrewd green eyes who made Blaine laugh and offered him access to his kitchen for food before he left for his own cramped apartment. He begged off work early on Monday and drove to an audition that ultimately ended with a polite, "You're just not what we're looking for," and the familiar ache of rejection stirring in his heart. He worked late on Tuesday to make up for it, and Kitty waited outside with Bond straining against his leash to rush to Blaine's side and cover his face in sloppy kisses.

On Wednesday, he and Kitty swapped places with Artie and Unique at twelve thirty, just in time for the lunch rush, and Blaine was preoccupied taking order after order until Kitty elbowed him in the side and jerked her head towards the door. Blaine looked, and for a moment it seemed as if he had simply stopped breathing, his heart jackrabbiting painfully against his breastbone as he gazed upon sheer perfection.

"Told you," Tina said smugly as she appeared from nowhere with a tray of dirty mugs and a half-eaten muffin. "Jesus Christ, he looks so good. Unique's gonna be so jealous that she was stuck in the kitchen!"

Blaine was watching Kurt with hungry eyes, observing the length of his apparently endless legs in their tight jeans, the flickering of emotions in his eyes as he spoke on his phone, the bulge of his bicep in the clinging shirt, when another of his regulars came to the front of the line. Hunter Clarington, who was always very vocal about the fact that he wasn't even remotely bi-curious but seemed to sing a different tune when it came to fucking into Blaine's mouth over and over, slid a hundred dollar bill across the counter. "Tonight at nine?" he asked gruffly, looking around as if any moment someone would accuse him of doing something treacherous.

Letting his eyes flicker to catch Kurt's, Blaine smirked and examined the bill between his fingers, making a great show of holding it up to the light. "Just making sure you aren't tricking me, Mr. Clarington," he teased with a coquettish giggle. "Of course, your home delivery will be delivered promptly to your apartment at nine, wrapped and simply waiting for you to open it. I'll be staying after to make sure it's  _installed_  correctly."

He dropped a wink to Kurt over the heads of the patrons, stomach swooping as Kurt smirked at him, brushing a stray lock of hair back from his forehead as he stepped up the counter, leaning over to slide a few hundred dollars into Blaine's top pocket as he murmured, voice deliciously low and swirling with seduction, "Any chance I could get a home delivery tomorrow night?"

"Anything for a handsome boy like you, sweetheart," Blaine cooed, knowing Kurt probably wouldn't be interested if he knew Blaine had every promotional poster for each movie he'd starred in hanging in a collage on the back of his closet door and had been glued to gossip sites for days when his relationship with his ex-boyfriend had crashed and burned. "All I need is an address and a time."

"I'm staying incognito at this hotel," Kurt whispered, scribbling the name on a nickname and pressing it into Blaine's hand, a frisson of electricity skittering down Blaine's spine as Kurt's fingers caressed luxuriously over his skin as they withdrew. "You'll have to ask for Oliver Twist at reception."

"And do you always go undercover under the name of a British orphan?" Blaine teased, and Kurt beamed at him, pink lips curving up into a smile. God they looked so soft, Blaine simply wanted to lean across the counter and kiss him, audience be damned.

"Fictional characters, a quirk my manager has," Kurt answered, accepting the coffee Blaine pressed into his hand. He took an experimental sip and his eyes lit up. "How did you know my coffee order?"

"Lucky guess," Blaine answered brightly, not willing to tell the gorgeous man standing before him that he had read his interview about food over and over again and cooked from recipes connected to the article for a week, driving Kitty absolutely crazy. "It's a special skill."

"I get the feeling that's not the only special skill I'll be seeing from you this week," Kurt whispered lowly, and Blaine very nearly blushed, because Kurt Hummel was flirting with him. Kurt Hummel was going to see him naked. He was going to have sex with Kurt Elizabeth Hummel. "I'll see you tomorrow night, Blaine. At seven sharp, I have to be on set at six thirty on Friday morning."

Blaine had to restrain the part of him that wanted to simply jump onto the counter and dance in victory as Kurt left with an obvious exaggerated sway in his hips, simply knowing that Kurt had thought him attractive enough on first sight to be interested in a home delivery, and to take the offer.


	2. Two

Despite being gratuitously used by Hunter, the taste of latex still lingering despite brushing his teeth twice, drinking a lot of coffee and eating a late lunch with the rest of the staff when the rush slowed, Blaine still had a spring in his step and a shine in his eyes the next day as he worked. The very idea that Kurt was waiting for him kept his nerves buzzing all day, and the moment Isabelle released them he was gone, leaving Kitty to do the grocery shopping while he flicked desperately through his closet and tried to decide what to wear.

Tight red jeans, the ones that always made him feel confident. He looked over his array of silk shirts, but he didn't want to appear so cheap to Kurt. Choosing his favourite boots, brown leather scuffed from wearing them up and down the country to hundreds of unsuccessful auditions, he slid them on and contemplated his closet carefully, flicking through his sweaters and cardigans for something appropriate. Finally, he chose his old lobster-patterned cardigan and a white polo for layering, and a tie in the same shade of grey as the soft material of the cardigan to pull the outfit together.

Fixing his hair to leave it mostly curly, just restrained to keep it from growing too wild in the wind rattling the windows, he gave his reflection a carefully considering once-over and grinned at himself. He looked good, younger than he would usually aim to be when heading out for a night with a client, but Kurt was younger than anyone else he serviced. The door opened and Bond went skittering across the floor, joyfully barking his greeting, and Blaine came out of his room to find Kitty putting the groceries away. "I'm going out, don't wait up," he told her, and she rolled her eyes as she presented her cheek for a goodbye kiss.

"You're always out late," she observed, and Blaine froze, hoping she hadn't realised where he was going three nights out of a week. "Do I have to call your mother, Blaine Devon Anderson? Do you have a boyfriend you're not telling anyone about?"

"Yeah, that's it, I'm seeing a boy in secret, don't tell anyone," Blaine teased. "It's the only time to get that auditorium at NYADA so I can practice for auditions, you know that. I promise I'll call if I'm going to be any later than midnight." He kissed Kitty's cheek, feeling her smile, and scratched Bond beneath the chin before he left, a spring in his step as he walked with the wind at his back, squinting at the map he'd printed out for the directions to the hotel where Kurt was staying.

As he strode into the reception of the hotel, gazing up in awe at the extravagant chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the pretty young woman at reception gave him a smile and beckoned him close. "What can I do for you, sir?" she asked sweetly.

"I'm here for Oliver Twist, he should be expecting me," Blaine said, drumming his fingers nervously against his own thighs. "He said he would tell reception he'd be expecting a guest at seven o'clock today."

"Yes, we do have a record of that," the young woman said, and slid a black keycard across the counter to Blaine. "He's staying in room 421. Here is your key, sir, and enjoy your evening." Blaine just smirked at her and turned towards one of the elevators, bouncing eagerly on the balls of his feet all the way up to the fourth floor, counting each gold number embossed on the doors until he found 421 and slid his card expertly through the scanner, waiting for the red light to flicker green before letting himself in as the grandfather clock at the end of the corridor chimed seven.

He was greeted by a wonderland of seduction. Red was everywhere, in the sheets on the bed, in the candles, on Kurt's body as he sashayed across the room to him in a hotel issue red bathrobe, hair perfectly coiffed and eyes glittering with anticipation. "Hi gorgeous," he murmured, leaning in so his breath gusted warm against Blaine's lips, obviously wanting to be kissed.

"I have certain rules for these encounters," Blaine said softly, stepping back, drawing his lip nervously between his teeth when he saw Kurt's eyes dim with disappointment. "No barebacking, for both mine and my customer's protection. I get tested every three months, but you can never be sure, it's safer to use protection." Kurt nodded sagely, and his long fingers toyed with the buttons of Blaine's cardigan, Blaine fighting to control his breathing as he gave Kurt a tiny nod and allowed him to take it off, hanging it neatly on the stand by the door.

"No pain. Not by hitting me or not using lube or with any object. It's not my kink and I'd much rather steer clear of any risk of it." Kurt nodded gently, eyes raking over Blaine's body, exposed now in his closely clinging clothes, his robe falling open a little to expose a V of flawless pale skin that Blaine ached to touch.

"No asking questions. I may have more encounters with you, I don't know, that's for you to decide, but I prefer to stay as incognito as possible. You won't know me accept for my name and my place of work." Kurt gave him an expectant look, and Blaine smiled. "It's Blaine, by the way. So you know what you'll be screaming later."

"I wouldn't be so sure that I'll be the one screaming," Kurt teased, giving Blaine a look from beneath his lashes that made him want to damn his rules and kiss this gorgeous man, lay him out on the sinfully scarlet sheets and learn every inch of his body, never leave the warm freckled curve of him.

"Don't expect me to still be here in the morning," Blaine continued, keeping his voice strong as Kurt untied his bowtie in one deft movement and yanked it away, pulling him closer with the motion. "I'm not a boyfriend, I'm not a lover, I'm here for the money, not out of personal interest. I come in, we have sex and I leave." Not entirely true in Kurt's case, but he couldn't admit that and still have this unbelievable older man take him seriously.

"And no kissing," he concluded as Kurt fisted his hands through the hem of his polo, dragging the material up over his head. "I had an awful boyfriend in high school who'd always do more than I wanted by distraction me with kisses, and I never want to be in that position again, so the rule is no kissing. If that's a problem, I can give you your money back and just leave."

"It's not a problem," Kurt said softly, and Blaine looked up to meet his eyes, resting reverently on his rather than roaming hungrily over his naked torso. "Can I kiss you in other places? Not your mouth, I promise, but would it be okay to kiss your neck? Your shoulders? Your gorgeous arms and chest and stomach and just  _everywhere_?"

Blaine tilted his head as if considering the offer, eyes smouldering deep gold at Kurt from beneath his lashes as the older man patiently waited, loosening the cord around his waist a little more, robe sliding off his shoulders and interrupting Blaine's train of thought with acres of creamy skin he wanted to leave bruises ringed with the marks of his teeth all over.

"I suppose that would be acceptable," he finally acquiesced teasingly, for Kurt to slam him back against the door, lips hot on his neck, sucking bruises into the tender skin and sending a shudder down his spine, knees turning liquid and almost sending him crashing to the floor.

Kurt whipped them around, a tendril of flame flying through the night, and backed Blaine rapidly towards the bed, the two of them tumbling down on a confusion of limbs and hands and lips. "You're gorgeous, Blaine," Kurt murmured against Blaine's collarbone, running his tongue along the line of the bone, hot and wet. "Let me make you feel good. I've never had a man like you under me."

"But you're paying me," Blaine said hesitantly, halting Kurt's worship of him by pulling his head up to look into his eyes. "I don't understand. Don't you want to use me to make you feel good?"

"If I wanted that, I'd buy a vibrator," Kurt scoffed, making Blaine giggle beneath him. "Do you not see how I got room service to set up this room? There's champagne on ice, and I can order those cliched chocolate strawberries from reception. You're not just a toy to me, you're a person and you matter."

Blinking up at Kurt in surprise, Blaine's gaze dropped to his lips, watching Kurt's tongue dart out nervously, the glistening trail it left behind. He wanted to kiss him so badly. Would it be a bad thing, to break a rule just this once? It would never happen again, just an impulse to follow and then forget about. Kurt's mouth was so close to his, just one tiny move and they'd be kissing, Kurt's lips on his, moving with his.

But then Kurt pulled away and slid down the bed, mouthing at him through his jeans before opening them and pulling his cock free, pressing soft kiss along the shaft, and Blaine forgot all thoughts of kissing him in favour of letting his head fall back against the bed with a moan, burying his hands in Kurt's hair and canting his hips towards his face. "Oh God, I'm sorry," he whispered, and Kurt just laughed, pillowing his chin on Blaine's thigh and smiling at him.

"It's been a while since anyone took your pleasure into account, right?" he asked softly, and Blaine nodded. "I plan on fucking you very thoroughly, and it won't burn as much if you come first." Blaine bit into the side of his own hand to choke back a scream as Kurt sucked at the pre-come beading at the head of his cock and sank his mouth over him, hot and wet and sending Blaine's head spinning with desire, spreading his legs to give Kurt better access, fingers tugging desperately at Kurt's hair.

"Come on, baby," Kurt whispered, pulling away briefly to suck kisses into the inside of Blaine's thigh, sweet and undeniably tender. "Just let go." With a cry, Blaine arched up from the bed, taut as a bowstring, and came.

"Oh my God," Blaine sighed as Kurt swallowed heavily and slid up the bed to lie next to him. His erection dug into Blaine's thigh, but he seemed to have no desire to get himself off. Perhaps he really had put a priority on Blaine's pleasure. "You're wonderful."

"I try," Kurt teased, tracing the tip of one cool finger around a red mark shining proudly out on Blaine's neck. "I'm just going to freshen up a little, I won't be long." Blaine watched him go and let himself simply sink into the bed, his thoughts drifting.

When Kurt returned, hair swept back into his neat coiff, smelling of his sharp and spicy cologne, Blaine smirked up at him, eyes glittering as Kurt slipped off his robe and knelt between his spread legs, popping open the bottle of lube. "Hello gorgeous," he whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to Blaine's wrist, right over the spot where his pulse fluttered at the butterfly-wing touch of Kurt's lips as he slicked up a finger, slowly circling Blaine's rim before pressing slowly into him, making Blaine keen long and low, arching closer, aching for more.

"So long since someone else did this," he murmured, watching the concentration in Kurt's eyes, the set of his mouth, so focused on making Blaine feel good. "Usually do it myself. Don't like trusting people to do it. Feel like they won't know what I like or how to do it right. Most of my usual clients are married to women and having me on the side."

"I can tell you that I'm definitely not married to anyone, unless something went very wrong when I was in Vegas last month for my manager's bachelorette party," Kurt assured him and Blaine giggled, the sound turning into a gasp as Kurt pressed another finger in, absurdly turned on by the slight burn and stretch, wondering in some distant part of his mind why he could never reach this state alone. "That must be hard, though. Knowing no matter what you do they'll be leaving for someone else's arms at the end of the night."

Blaine opened his mouth to respond, but Kurt's crooked fingers found his prostate and his words became a cry that trailed away into a gasp, writhing down desperately onto Kurt's fingers. "'Nother one," he pleaded breathlessly, and Kurt smiled as he complied, leaning down to wrap his lips around Blaine's nipple, making Blaine jerk and cry out. "Kurt, now, please please now. I want you so bad."

Hands shaking, Kurt reached over Blaine for a condom, rolling it expertly onto himself and slicking himself up with three sharp tugs, pressing soft kisses to Blaine's chest as he pushed slowly into him, Blaine lifting his leg and wrapping it around his hips, heel digging into Kurt's ass and pressing him in deep. His eyes rolled back in his head as Kurt bottomed out, breathing heavily and pressing his forehead against Blaine's shoulder, chest rising and falling raggedly. "You feel so good," he gasped, undulating his hips experimentally, making Blaine cry out and his free leg twine around Kurt's, pulling him closer. "God, Blaine, you're so gorgeous. Please say you won't last, because I just can't."

"Just a little more," Blaine promised, a sweat-damp curl falling over his forehead as he shuffled upright to meet Kurt's eyes and give him a soft smile. "Move, Kurt, please."

The moment Kurt did, Blaine collapsed against the mattress, the springs creaking beneath his body, letting himself sink into the hypnotic sway of Kurt's marble-pale body above his, revelling in letting someone else go to the lengths of giving him pleasure instead of the usual role reversal, absorbed in the grit of Kurt's teeth as he concentrated, the sweet drag of him inside, how he could feel him hot and hard even through the layer of latex that separated their skin, the scent of his cologne heavy with sweat and sex on the air, the deep cerulean of his eyes and the shiny black of his blown pupils, the warmth of his breath and the scrape of his teeth against Blaine's neck, the shudder that rolled through his body when Blaine cried out his name, pushing him deep inside.

And that was all it took for Blaine to come with a high thready moan, white streaks webbing over the olive of his stomach and chest, and he forced his orgasm-heavy eyelids open in time to see the flash of ecstasy and relief across Kurt's face as he came, shaking and whining through it before collapsing heavily on top of Blaine, stroking his hair thoughtlessly as they simply lay content in each other's company and the sounds of their heavy breathing as they came down from their shared high.

"Best I've ever had," Kurt declared after long minutes of pleasure-high silence, raising his head from Blaine's chest to give him a bright smile, eyes glittering, voice deliciously rough. "Do you want to clean up before you leave?"

"Actually, I was thinking about staying," Blaine said softly, and Kurt's eyes lit up. "I don't want my roommate to get suspicious, and I think staying out the whole night might help ease her up on the interrogating. I know you have to be on set early tomorrow morning, I can wake up early and go."

"It's not a problem," Kurt assured him. "I'll tell reception you're still here and they'll send up breakfast." He pressed a soft kiss against Blaine's shoulder and said, "I better go take my second shower of the night. Only downside to sex." He gave Blaine a smile and climbed out of bed, swaying hips and mussed hair and flushed skin as he sashayed into the bathroom, leaving Blaine to sink into the bed and give the ceiling a giddily smug smile.


	3. Three

Sunlight poured through the windows where they'd forgotten to draw the curtains before falling asleep, brightening the innocent white of the sheets and glancing off the mirror mounted by the door. Stifling a yawn, Blaine snuggled into the warm body pressed against his, draping his arm over a firm chest and pressing a soft kiss against a shoulder. To his joy, the man he was in bed with wrapped an arm around him in return, curling him into the cocoon of his body and kissing the top of his head, a soft, "Morning gorgeous," curling into the air between them.

"I thought you had to be on set at six," Blaine murmured, pillowing his chin on Kurt's chest to look up into his eyes, shining with joy as he gazed sweetly down at Blaine.

"Director changed his mind, he called about an hour ago to tell me he decided to work with the villain today," Kurt explained softly, winding his arm tighter around Blaine's waist and pulling him close, pressed against his side. "I'm all yours for the day."

A sudden ringing broke the silence, and Blaine jerked upright, the comforter falling around his hips as he reached down to grab his bag and unearth his phone, answering with a bright, "Hello?"

"Blaine Devon Anderson, where the hell have you been?!" Kitty screeched furiously, and Blaine winced and held the phone a few inches from his ear, staring wide-eyed as his friend continued to yell. "You said midnight, I waited up until midnight and you didn't come back! You didn't even have the courtesy to call, you promised you would! I was ready to call the police, Blaine!"

"Kitty, please, stop yelling," Blaine pleaded, shivering as Kurt sat up behind him, trailing cool fingers down his spine, following the line of his fingertips with his lips, a line of soft kisses laid into his skin. "I'm fine, I swear. I was practicing until one and I just crashed in a friend's dorm. I didn't mean to worry you, I'm sorry I didn't call. I'll be home by twelve, and I'll text you if I'm going to be even a minute late."

"You better," Kitty said threateningly. "If you don't, I'm telling Tina you hooked up last night. You know how fast that girl can spread gossip."

"You also know that I'm concentrating on my career right now," Blaine insisted, lying through his teeth as Kurt's lips skimmed over his shoulder, teeth scraping at the sensitive skin. "I have to go, Kitty, I'll be by twelve, I promise. Love you."

"Love you too, ass-face," Kitty said, almost tenderly, and was gone with a click and the dial tone, letting Blaine sink back into Kurt's hands on him, his lips hot and hungry against Blaine's neck.

"I don't know if you usually do this, but can we go for round two?" Kurt asked softly, and Blaine laughed at the very idea that he wouldn't want to go for it, turning in Kurt's arms and pressing him down into the mattress, the two of them exchanging a breathless laugh and giddy smile before finding their way to each other's arms, Kurt's hands spread at the small of Blaine's back, thumbs matching the dimples just above his ass, and Blaine's fingers curled into Kurt's shoulders, knees dropped on either side of his hips.

"I just can't believe you ever wanted me," Blaine whispered as Kurt began to swivel his hips against his, sending sparks of pleasure down his spine and to his half-hard cock. "I never thought someone like you would even pick me out of a crowd."

"Please tell me you're joking, Blaine," Kurt pleaded, curving his hands over Blaine's ass and tugging him close, pulling his head down to suck kisses into his neck, leaving angry hickies emblazoned like a badge over the tender skin. "You are so gorgeous, I swear my heart stopped for a minute when I first saw you. And then when I realised I could have you in bed with me just by asking, I couldn't believe it. I couldn't look past you no matter how many people there were around you. You have a way of pulling focus."

"Wish the people I auditioned for thought so," Blaine murmured sadly, and then felt stupid for bringing such a thing up with Kurt beneath him, laid out pale and lithe in the sheets, statuesque beauty. "Sorry, sorry, back to the grinding."

"Hey, you'll get your big break," Kurt promised, brushing a sweat-damp curl back from Blaine's forehead and smiling up at him. "You might have to pay your dues as an extra, a taxi driver or a hotdog vendor, for a while, but I can tell you're a talented one, and you will make it out there. You deserve to."

Squeezing his eyes shut to disguise the tears prickling behind his lids, Blaine gave Kurt a wide smile and let his elbows drop out from under him to put his weight entirely on Kurt, ear pressed against his chest, listening to the quiet beat of his heart. Kurt's arms came hesitantly up around him, cuddling him close, and they lay there forgetting the world, content to simply be.

Lying there, pressed against Kurt, comforted and comforting, Blaine was content to float through the realm of a fantasy, losing himself in a dream of a life he could never have. Having someone to come home to each night, a husband rather than an overprotective roommate, the generic house with the white picket fence and flowers in regimented arrangements, children fathered by one of them running around the house, soft kisses exchanged in the mornings and nights, the dawns and dusks, the afternoons and evenings. A dream of a happy family life with someone who loved him, a fantasy he knew was beyond his reach for as long as he could still feel teeth sinking into his shoulder as an unbidden intrusion pushed at his very core.

Blaine couldn't help the gasp that escaped him when Kurt kissed his forehead, the corner of his eyebrow, the tip of his nose and each closed eyelids, heat blooming out in gentle ripples from each point his lips touched until Blaine's face was flushed warm and a giddy grin was playing at the corners of his mouth, Kurt giving him a tender smile. "You deserve to have a thousand people appreciating just how beautiful you are," he whispered, rolling them over so Blaine was beneath him, Kurt kneeling between his spread legs.

"You're beautiful everywhere," Kurt continued, Blaine gazing reverently up at him, his eyes darkened to deep amber with arousal. "Your legs are so strong, like your arms. You look like you could protect anyone from someone trying to hurt them, and hold a lucky man close and never let anybody hurt the ones you love." His mouth moved, mapping out every inch of skin he had woven such beautiful odes to, Blaine sighing and letting his legs fall open further to allow Kurt to skim kisses up the insides of his thighs, lips dragging against the dusting of soft dark hair.

"And your hands are so beautiful, callused and rough, an artist's hands." Kurt knelt up, taking Blaine's right hand and raising it to his lips, kissing each finger, his palm, the veins running just beneath the skin at the back of his hand, sucking Blaine's thumb into his mouth, then repeating every action with meticulous attention to what made Blaine gasps and his cock jump against his stomach on the other hand.

"Your chest is so muscular, but you have this little bit of cushioning at your stomach, and I love it." Blaine squirmed and laughed as Kurt nuzzled into his belly, smacking wet kisses into the skin. "You wouldn't be you without it, that much I know, and you look absolutely gorgeous. You take my breath away."

"And your lips." Kurt's eyes flickering upwards, darkening rapidly and visibly as he gazed at Blaine's mouth, unconsciously mimicking the movement when his tongue darted out to wet his dry lips. "God, I want to do everything to that mouth. I want to see you on your knees for me while I fuck past your pretty lips. I want to kiss you in a hundred different ways, and learn every inch of your mouth, how to turn you on until you can't see straight just with kisses. I want to spend hours kissing you, when it's lazy and easy and we don't have to lead into anything. I want to kiss you until you forget how to breathe. I just want..."

As Kurt's voice trailed into a shuddering intake of breath, and he leaned in closer, Blaine wriggled out from beneath him, reaching for his abandoned clothes. "I should go, I don't need Kitty on my case about staying out late," he said apologetically, dressing fantastically fast and stepping in front of the mirror to adjust his bowtie.

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable!" Kurt protested, clutching the comforter around his waist as he rushed to Blaine's side, gazing deep into his eyes and making something stir deep within him that he'd long since pushed down, refusing to acknowledge the bone-deep desire to fall in love again.

He couldn't fall in love with a client. It had been made so much easier by taking on married men, simply hungry for something to fuck while their wives were away or unwilling. No risk of falling in love with them, he wouldn't want a man who cheated so easily and deceived his life partner to spend a few hours in bed with a young, warm body.

But Kurt was different. Achingly so. He was sweet and gentle and disarmingly beautiful, strong limbs and sharp lines and mesmerizing eyes and a soft smile that Blaine felt was only for him. His hands were so sure of themselves on his skin, unlike the fumbles of those married men, knowing how to caress pleasure into him, arousal licking like a tender flame at his body as he lost himself in those eyes, forgot his rules and simply wanted to fall and never let go.

The reason Blaine had taken on these clients, the home deliveries, was not for the money or because he was simply obsessed with sex. It was because he was scared, and he desperately needed a way to put himself back in control of sex, to not allow someone else to dominate him, distract him with the warm, wet pressure of their lips while they stripped him down and had their way with him, leaving him feeling cheap and worthless and sore, losing something he could never get back to rough hands and sharp bites to his neck and shoulder and arms and chest, leaving bruises that faded slowly from black to purple to yellow over the days spilling into weeks, a constant reminder of what he had allowed someone to do to him, without so much as a whimper of protest.

To fall in love again would be dangerous. To fall in love would be to relinquish that control, to trust someone infinitely, with his heart and soul and mind and body. To trust them not to violate him, to listen to him when he wasn't ready, to be tender and sweet and gentle and true. No one had ever done that for him before, how could he expect someone so wonderful to be his and only his? There was no doubt in his mind that a man with such beauty was wanted by millions, and he could have any one of them, rather than a boy who took money from strangers to keep paying the rent in exchange for letting someone drive into him over and over until they were spent and he was painted with regret.

"You didn't, I really do have to get home," Blaine promised, squeezing Kurt's hand and leaning their foreheads briefly together. "Thank you for an amazing night. And if you're ever in need of another appointment, you know where to find me." Kurt nodded eagerly, and Blaine laughed as he wrapped the older man into a warm embrace, tucking his chin over Kurt's shoulder and clutching at him a little, unwilling to let him go.


End file.
